


Missive To An Angel

by Into_Parabola



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cute, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Pet Names, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cracker barrel - Freeform, date, ineffable boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 15:17:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21394318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Into_Parabola/pseuds/Into_Parabola
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale can't help but flirt with each other at dinner, and dinner just happens to be at Cracker Barrel
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Missive To An Angel

Crowley gazed distastefully at the interior of the Cracker Barrel he and Aziraphale sat inside of. They had a small, cozy table next to the fireplace with a full view of the walls adorned with a disparate assortment of antiquities. "You'd think that after sixty centuries on this planet the humans would have learned how to decorate," he sniffed, reaching for a menu and briefly brushing hands with his companion. 

"Well I like it!" Aziraphale gave a small smile as he unfolded his menu. "It's quaint. Besides, it was my night to choose where to dine." 

"Yes, yes. But whatever happened to places like Paris? Venice? Hell, even Vegas, despite its many faults, has lovely cuisine and a wonderful nightlife. And yet here we are, The Middle Of Nowhere, America, _Cracker Barrel._" 

He flipped open his menu and his yellow eyes widened beneath his sunglasses. "Although... There are no three words that I like to hear more than 'brown sugar bacon!' This may work out yet!" 

Aziraphale's lips turned downwards. "Really?" He said, voice suddenly full of disappointment, "not even 'I love you?'"

Crowley's face burned and his heart (yes, despite how often he disputed the fact, he _did_ have a heart) panged with guilt. He reached across the table and took one of Aziraphale's hands. 

"I'm sorry, angel. It was just a bad joke. Of course I prefer hearing that. It always makes me happy." Crowley gave a small, adoring smile. Aziraphale perked right up. 

"Oh, it's alright! I must admit that hearing you call me 'angel' always makes my day, too!" 

"But you are an angel?" 

"Oh, stop it! You're making me blush!" 

Crowley couldn't keep the smile of his face at this point. "Aziraphale, darling, as much as I enjoy this flirtatious routine, if we keep it up we'll never know what to order."

"Oh, right you are!" Aziraphale withdrew his hand from Crowley's grasp with another small and sheepish smile of his own. "I do want to read through all of their different hot cakes!" He resisted the urge to say make a joke about Crowley being a 'hot cake' as the demon lifted his menu up again. Of course, that was the only bit of self-restraint the angel could muster. 

"Oh, Crowley, one more thing. I love you." 

Aziraphale smirked as the demon disappeared fully behind his menu, a mass of blushes and smiles.


End file.
